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"The Whisper in the Attic" by sunbeamsRaindrop loved the rain. I knew, because whenever the sky broke forth into tears there was always an aura of quiet contentment about her. I can't see her, of course- she's invisible. But over time I learned to search for the feeling of her presence, a deep imprint in a cushion, a horseshoe-shaped mark in a layer of dust. Most often I would see a thick book lying open on the old oak desk, its pages turning silently as if blown by some divine wind in a....